GOT: The Dangerous Traveler 3
Lyn Corbray
Year 281 A.C. – Harrenhal
"The King has an announcement!" the herald shouted. Lyn was still staring intently at the king, and it was a very unpleasant sight.
'Should I take the crown and put it on my head? It would give him more dignity,' the swordsman thought fleetingly.
The scene that followed was Aerys Targaryen naming Jaime Lannister as a member of the Kingsguard. The crowd cheered, while Jaime, though joyful, had a faint haze in his eyes.
Lyn thought the young man would be a decent rival, far better than average. After all, being named to the Kingsguard at fifteen was a notable achievement for most of the population. Though Lyn would never be willing to take those oaths. Well, he would take them, but without fulfilling them, though it would still be a nuisance. Lyn already knew the feeling of having his balls full while possessing Gwayne Corbray's body.
Lyn's eyes moved away from Jaime Lannister and began to scan the royal box. Besides Aerys was Prince Rhaegar alongside his wife, Elia Martell. The girl was pretty, but she looked a bit malnourished and weak; Lyn would break her. Not that it mattered much to the young Corbray, but it wouldn't be ideal.
However, something caught his attention next to Elia. Lyn's breath hitched as his eyes widened in surprise.
'That's… Ashara Dayne,' the young man thought. The woman was beautiful. No, calling her beautiful was an insult; she was much more than that. She had captivating violet eyes, delicate and kind features, and long hair as dark as night. She wore a purple dress that matched her eyes.
Lyn smirked. Nothing else mattered; he wanted to taste her. But the moment would come.
Lyn Corbray was a dangerous man. Everyone in Heart's Home knew it. Many rumors circulated through the halls of his castle, from his superior martial skill to having Volantene slaves. Some were true, others were lies. Lyn didn't care; he enjoyed the fear in people's eyes. He liked making sudden movements when a servant entered his room with breakfast; he always did it until one servant, out of fright, spilled his breakfast on him. She became food for the dogs.
"It was a good presentation," Lyn heard to his left and saw his brother Lyonel conversing with one of his great friends, Andar Royce.
Andar Royce was the heir of Lord Yohn Royce. Lyn remembered he was a couple of years younger than his brother.
"Totally agree," Lyn commented, forcing himself into the conversation. He had never spoken to Andar, but he had heard much about him. His brother Lyonel had been a ward of Yohn Royce, after all, and upon returning to Heart's Home, he had many stories to tell. Though Lyn had seen the young man a couple of times due to the proximity of their tents, he hadn't been interested in introducing himself. The women of House Royce looked like men, and it was said the men of their house preferred to bed the goats of their mountains. Why would Lyn be interested in such a house? He wasn't crazy.
"Lyn, right? It's good to finally meet you," Andar replied with a smile.
"Likewise, Andar," Lyn responded, followed by a ten-second silence.
"Lyonel told me you're participating in the melee and joust," Andar Royce said, breaking the silence, to which Lyn nodded. A small smirk appeared on Andar's face.
"I'm in Group H," Lyn replied, and Andar's smirk grew. "You too?"
"Yes."
"But you don't have to be nervous."
"Excuse me?" Andar asked, while Lyonel looked between his brother and his friend, wanting to see where the conversation was going, despite all his suspicions.
"You know my reputation? I'm a great warrior, but sometimes I go overboard. When I go overboard, accidents happen."
"Yes, I know your reputation. Some call you Lyn the Dangerous. You spent a season hunting the mountain clans; still, rumors say your sword has more blood from knights killed in tournaments than from members of those clans."
"Well, what can I say? My sword is thirsty," Lyn replied with a smile. "But I insist, relax. I've been learning self-control; accidents should happen… less often. In fact, this very morning I was meditating. It helps with self-control, doesn't it?"
"That's what I've heard," Andar replied, but his face still showed nervousness. Lyonel finally had to intervene.
"Lyn, there's no need to keep making these jokes. We've already talked about this. In this tournament, those accidents CANNOT happen."
"Of course, brother," Lyn replied, and his eyes returned to the stage, though everything had already ended.
In a couple of hours, there would be a banquet in the Hall of a Hundred Hearths, in the center of Harrenhal. The castle was truly imposing, even in Lyn's eyes.
It was the largest castle in the Seven Kingdoms in theory, located on the northern shore of the God's Eye, in the Riverlands.
The castle has five towering towers, with equally monstrous walls. The walls are incredibly thick, and its rooms are built on a scale that would be more comfortable for giants than humans. Most of those rooms hadn't been repaired.
House Whent didn't have enough money to maintain a castle like Harrenhal, so… they simply didn't maintain it. In fact, that was strange in Lyn's eyes. How could a not-so-prominent house host a tournament of such magnitude?
Of the five towers of the castle, the shortest is half the height of the tallest tower in Heart's Home, but none of the towers are in good condition, as they are bent, bulging, and cracked from the melting of the stone during the burning of Harrenhal by Balerion, the dragon of King Aegon I Targaryen, three centuries ago. Their original names were lost with the death of Harren the Black, and it's said the towers are haunted by fiery spirits.
Lyn didn't care about the names of the towers, but he was interested in the fact that the castle seemed haunted. Magic… spirits… Lyn had plenty of experience with them. His travels and his ability to possess other living beings, akin to wargs, were evidence of that.
Still, those supposed spirits weren't enough motivation for him to start exploring the castle clandestinely. So, with his goal being to return to his tent, he resumed his march. Until a voice interrupted him.
"Lyn Corbray?" said a firm voice, laced with venom. The young man turned to look at the source of such hostility.
"The same," the young man replied, scrutinizing the man before him with his gaze.
He was older than Lyn himself, past twenty-five, Lyn assumed. He was burly, dark-skinned, with thick black hair and a beard of the same shade. His eyes were dark and lay beneath his bushy black eyebrows.
"I'm Jorah Mormont."
"Hello, Jorah Mormont. I'm Lyn Corbray," the young man replied with a smile, mimicking Jorah's tone. "What do you need?"
"Do you know Dacey Mormont?" Jorah asked, his tone hardening.
He knew. Jorah Mormont knew I had bedded his cousin.
"Sounds familiar," Lyn replied, looking at Jorah with a mocking smile. 'Go on, do it. Attack, attack…' the young man thought, and he saw Jorah Mormont losing his patience. The knight's hand—because he was already a knight—reached for his sword.
"Do you understand what you did?" Jorah asked. The man was alone; he had come without consulting his family.
The people around noticed what was happening, some nobles even. The only familiar face was Jasper Redfort, also a noble from the Vale. His eyes indicated an intention to intervene, while the rest of the nobles seemed to enjoy the spectacle.
"Nothing that hasn't been done before," Lyn commented, and that was too much for Jorah Mormont.
The current Lord Mormont of Bear Island unsheathed his sword and lunged at Lyn with speed. He attacked vertically, a strike that was stopped by Lyn's block. Instantly, Jorah launched four more attacks, all of them quick and powerful. He didn't seem to aim for any vital spots; he attacked Lyn's arms or legs. Maybe he wanted to teach him a lesson; Lyn wouldn't make it so easy.
"You lack rhythm, Lord Mormont. Your cousin made me sweat more," Lyn whispered, so the spectators wouldn't hear.
The bear's eyes widened with fury and indignation, and blood seemed to rush to his face from the euphoria. The next attack was a direct thrust to the heart. Lyn sidestepped and decided to return the blow directly to the bear's face.
His sword grazed him, but it was a dangerous enough graze. A line of blood dripped from Jorah's eye, cutting part of his cheek and forehead.
"Agh," Jorah groaned.
Lyn realized he would soon lose his opportunity. Some nobles were growing increasingly anxious to intervene. He couldn't let that happen, could he?
Jorah made one last charge, swinging his sword directly toward Lyn's shoulder, but Lyn Corbray was faster. His dark mane fluttered in the wind, while his expression showed only a smile. His sword danced through the air and cut with precision.
The result was drops of blood staining Lyn Corbray's face; the blood wasn't his.
Lyn simply didn't look back; he just sheathed his sword while using a small white cloth he kept in his right pocket to wipe his face.
"It was a good fight," Lyn commented to the air, his eyes fixed on the clouds. There was no sweat on his face, and though he tried to hide his smile, it was impossible. Like when you want to play a prank on your father, but the joke is so funny you can't hide it. That's how Corbray felt. Except this wasn't a joke, because when Lyn Corbray finally turned to see his handiwork, there was a body on the ground.
The body was lying face down, but in the throat area, a pool of blood was growing larger and larger. Jorah Mormont's head was almost completely severed. Lyn's sword wasn't Valyrian steel, and it didn't seem enough to do a clean job, but it was good enough. Lyn would manage.
The next moment, Lyn let out a tired sigh.
"That… lunatic. He tried to kill me. Someone call the guards, by the Seven! Do you think this is a spectacle? A man just tried to murder me!" Lyn shouted, but the smile on his lips made him look macabre.
Within minutes, a man with a serious expression arrived. He was a member of the Kingsguard.
"Who dares disturb the King's peace!" he bellowed, his eyes locking on Lyn. "Explain yourself, Lord," he added, recognizing Lyn as a noble.
Lyn Corbray proceeded to recount the events, while the witnesses supported his statement; mainly the boy from House Redfort.
Corbray saw it; the Redfort boy was afraid of him. That was good. He should be afraid.
Ser Jonothor Darry decided to temporarily conclude the matter, stating he would present the case to Lord Whent and the Crown. At the same time, he would summon the remaining members of House Mormont, along with House Stark and House Arryn.
It wasn't really a trial; Lyn Corbray had turned the situation around to the point where he ended up demanding compensation from House Mormont—something those paupers could never pay.
"Well, matter concluded," Lyn commented as he walked back to his tent with a smile. There was still a bit of blood staining his face. Lyn thought it made him look sexy.